


There Will Be Peace

by AriannaWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Post-Episode: s12e18 The Memory Remains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 15:03:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriannaWinchester/pseuds/AriannaWinchester
Summary: The Winchester brother's have passed into legend, until the bunker is rediscovered.





	There Will Be Peace

Reaching out she lightly traced the initials carved into the wooden table. SW and DW. She had grown up with stories of hunters that had those initials but they couldn’t be the same ones as whoever carved those, could it? Seemed a bit improbable considering that if they were real they would have lived and died over a hundred years ago. Yet, her fingers lingered on the table, tracing and retracing the initials she was overcome with a feeling of immense sadness and fierce love all at the same time. She couldn’t explain it but it was as if the air around her took on weight and suddenly this wasn’t just another mission to collect artifacts. 

Reluctantly she pulled her hand away from the engraved table and cast one last glance back at the SW and DW before walking to the bookshelves to see if there was anything of importance there before moving onto find the items she had been sent to collect. Idly she ran her hands over the spines of the books, not really paying attention to the titles until the texture under her hand changed from smooth leather to  a coarser more worn leather of a significantly smaller book than the others lining the shelves. Wrapping her fingers around the book she pulled it out and let it fall open. It was a journal, a hunters journal, she hadn’t seen one of these in ages. Everything was in a database now and hunters, those that were still needed, would add the details of their hunts to it as they went along.

Returning to the table with the mysterious initials, she sat, opened the book to page one, and instantly froze.

John Winchester

This was the journal of John Winchester.

She quickly flipped to the back and scanned through the pages looking for a name, two names to be exact, and they there were.

Sam and Dean Winchester.

SW and DW

Sam and Dean Winchester, the saviors of pretty much existence as she knew it, the brothers that had closed down hell, shut off heaven from earth, and decimated the monster population on pretty much the whole continent. The brothers that had sacrificed themselves so the world would be a better place than they had found it, the tragic heroes, the little boys from Lawrence, Kansas that had lost their mother to a demon and determined to save as many as they could from the same fate.

The Winchesters

She must have read for hours but it only felt like a moment, the things the brothers had been through, the losses they had suffered, the pain they had fought through and all so others could have better lives than they did. The journal told their entire story up to when they found the bunker and discovered their link to the Men of Letters, then it just stopped. 

What had happened to them after? 

What had lead to their ultimate, and final sacrifice?

Closing the journal she blinked some wetness from her eyes as she slowly reached out to trace their initials again and was overcome with that feeling of loss and love all over again. It was as if she could hear the brothers talking if she listened hard enough. Whispers and echoes of time spent grieving, fighting, planning, and if she really listened, really concentrated, she could hear the brothers laughing, brief moments of joys shared and then gone in the blink of an eye.  

Despite everything, despite the tragic story of their lives and their deaths, she can feel that they were happy here. They were happy to just be together, have a home, and a purpose. 

The weight in the air got heavier as the voices of the past grew louder and she swore she could almost see them, sitting across from each other talking over books and beer, they should have cut the loneliest picture she had ever seen but instead she felt warmth, contentment, and love. 

Blinking the wetness from her eyes once more, the vision fades, and she once again pulls her hand away from the table and takes up the journal. As she flips through it a quote hastily scribbled at the bottom of the last page catches her eye,

“A wise man once told me family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them. Family’s there through the good, bad, all of it. They got your back even when it hurts. That’s family.”

Her breath hitched a bit as she read it out loud, in a hushed whisper, afraid to disturb the reverent quiet of the bunker. Under the quote it simply read, 

“See you all soon.”

And that was it, nothing written after it. There were obviously gaps in the journal and it didn’t appear that the brothers had written in much after finding the bunker, but she got the feeling that this page, this very last page, had been written on the day the brothers died.

She carefully closed the journal and just sat in her chair for awhile absorbing everything she had found. The Winchesters were legends in their own right but she had never really thought of them as living and breathing human beings. I mean, sure, obviously they had lived but the stories she grew up with always made them seem so much larger than life, and they still were, but now they were human too. Two brothers with a tragic past that had overcome all the obstacles thrown at them by staying together and fighting the good fight. They were two brothers with a home and a life and friends and family and they lived here, in this bunker, they sat in the same seat she was currently sitting in.

Slowly she stood from the table and walked back to the bookshelf where she gently put the journal back where she had found it. She dialed her boss and waited for him to answer. When she got his voicemail she was relieved.

“Hello Sir, just checking in, that place you sent me to ended up being a dead end. Nothing here but a bunch of rotting furniture and useless books. I’m heading back now, see you tomorrow.”

Disconnecting she started to make her way out, running her hands over the chairs and nicknacks as she went. As she reached the stairs and prepared to leave she paused and turned, taking the immenseness of the bunker in one more time and not just its size, but what it stood for, as the home of the Winchester brothers. She could almost see them at the table again, hunched over research for their latest case.

Suddenly overcome with emotion she cleared her throat and ascended the stairs. Just before turning the breakers off, she turned back to look down and as her eyes were drawn instantly back to those initials forever carved into legend SW DW, “thank you” she whispered and plunged the bunker back into darkness, she would let the Winchesters rest in peace, it was the least she could do. She closed the heavy iron door behind her with a bang of finality.


End file.
